


a rush like a rolling ball of thunder

by ShowMeAHero



Series: no path runs smooth [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Curtain Fic, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Humor, Kid Fic, Kissing, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:07:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28417326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShowMeAHero/pseuds/ShowMeAHero
Summary: “Do you ever wish it could always be like this?” Han asks, on a whim.“What, exactly like this?” Leia asks. “Lazing around in bed all day together?”“I guess so,” Han says.“You didn’t mean that, though,” Leia prompts. Han half-shrugs, rubbing a small circle in the wisps of hair at the base of her neck.
Relationships: Background Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa/Han Solo
Series: no path runs smooth [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068683
Comments: 23
Kudos: 370





	a rush like a rolling ball of thunder

**Author's Note:**

> i was listening to [one of my two han/leia playlists](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4SnPcncNriAS3DufzdKj0s?si=6srTCLJ4QUi2YY7Was0UCQ) this morning ([this being the other one](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4m3ZEIXFjqcAM7LJArvPh8?si=FkFKByZySgWoTrbeBHVifg)) and just wanted to write a little something for them. i am feeling incredibly tender about it!!
> 
> anyways i pulled the title from one of the songs on the playlist, ["december, 1963 (oh what a night!)" by frankie valli and the four seasons](https://open.spotify.com/track/7ePFDzrnLt3Ynqgy2UFWri?si=p54WiJQRT02UQvVrkUuJKg)! enjoy this and the little story!!

The first thing Han sees when he wakes up in the morning, every morning, is Leia.

Well, almost every morning. Ben still does make his way into their bad part of the time, plagued by nightmares he doesn’t remember after he wakes up, and sometimes Han wakes up to his sleeping face, instead. On rare occasions, Han will wake up in bed alone, but Leia hardly ever wakes up before him anymore, these days.

More often than not, Han starts his days looking at Leia’s face, and the rest of the day can only be downhill from there.

There was a long time in his life where he just did what felt good that day. It wasn’t a bad way to live, but he got tired of it, after a while. Luke and Leia came into his life at the exact right time, if he’s being honest with himself. He was exhausted. It was time for a change. And the first time he saw Leia’s face, he just— he knew. He knew she was the change he wanted.

And,  _ fuck,  _ they fight sometimes, and they butt heads, and sometimes the way Leia  _ says things  _ just gets under Han’s skin and he needs to go blow off steam in the woods with Chewbacca for a while. Chewie lets him just rant and rave until he calms down. More often than not, lately, he simmers down quickly, and he apologizes fast. Leia does, too. More quickly than she used to. They’ve lost a lot; they don’t want to lose any more, and they definitely don’t want to lose each other.

This morning, when Han wakes up, he sees Leia. As always. He’s on his stomach, face half-pressed into the pillow; a warm weight sprawled across his back tells him Ben found his way on top of him in the middle of the night. As he wakes up, he realizes Ben’s small hands are fisted in Han’s loose sleep shirt, gripping it tight.

Leia’s got her hand tangled in his shirt, too. Still fast asleep, face tucked in close to his, hand curled at his collar, fingers slack with sleep. As he breathes, shifting slightly, her fingertips brush his bare throat.

Her eyes flicker at the movement, eyelids shifting before she blinks them open sleepily. She sees him and, after a moment, she smiles. It’s instinctive, and it makes something deep in Han smile, too. He just does it without thinking.

“Morning,” she murmurs to him. A jaw-cracking yawn hits her in the next second, wide enough that he can see her back teeth and down her throat.

“Morning,” he echoes, once she’s quieted. Ben sleeps like a stone, unmoving on Han’s back. Leia’s attention drifts down to look at their son, and her hand drifts upwards. She must be brushing his hair out of her face; Han can hear it being swept backwards. He’s always refusing haircuts. Han assumes Leia’s parents had the same issue with her as a child, and all that  _ hair  _ she’s got.

“How’re you feeling?” Leia asks, half-muffled by her pillow. She shifts and yawns again, rubbing her face into the pillow before turning onto her side.

“What do you mean by that?” Han asks. He keeps his voice low, watching Leia pull the blanket further up over her shoulders and Ben’s back.

“You know what I mean by that,” Leia says. “After last night.”

“Mm.” Han shuts his eyes for a moment, then opens them again, looking to Leia’s mouth rather than her eyes. “Better. Sorry I’ve been kind of a— I don’t know, you know. A jerk.”

“I’m used to you being a jerk,” Leia says with a smile. That smile makes Han’s chest do stupid things, makes  _ Han  _ do stupid things, just to see it again.

“You know I’m in love with you,” Han says to her. “You gotta know that.”

“I do,” Leia says. “Do you?”

Han huffs, letting his eyes flick up to meet Leia’s again. She’s just looking back at him with that put-on patience that she spent years having to learn, the patience of a politician, of a spy. Of a leader. She’s always been better than him. He’d never let her know he thinks that, but he does.

“I do,” he says to her. She shifts closer to him, lifting his arm up to slot herself against his side. He lets his arm drape across her back, trailing up her side to tangle in the loose braids at the back of her head. She always complains if she leaves it loose and it gets tangled; she always gets this knot, right at the back of her neck, and it’s hell to comb out. It leaves her red-faced and cursing. Even though Han never knew how to braid very well — and still doesn’t, not really — he let her teach him how on her hair, after a few years together. He braids it back for her at night. They’re always loose and kind of terrible, but still, they hold.

He wraps her two long braids around his hand, tugging lightly. She grins at him, reaching up to cup his chin in her hand.

“Do you ever wish it could always be like this?” Han asks, on a whim.

“What, exactly like this?” Leia asks. “Lazing around in bed all day together?”

“I guess so,” Han says.

“You didn’t mean that, though,” Leia prompts. Han half-shrugs, rubbing a small circle in the wisps of hair at the base of her neck. “Here on Yavin?”

“Just— You know, not fighting all the time,” Han says. “Aren’t you tired of fighting all the time?”

“I didn’t think you’d ever  _ want  _ to put down roots,” Leia says, incredulous.

“I don’t want to put down  _ roots,  _ woman, come  _ on,”  _ Han says. He does a good show of indignance, well enough that Leia smiles at him, pushing in closer. Her body heat’s just radiating off of her to him under their covers. “I just mean— You know, happy. Not fighting all the time. Ben’s happy, you know.  _ You’re  _ happy,  _ I’m  _ happy— You’re happy, right?”

“I’m happy enough,” Leia says, starting to smile at him again. “Where’s this coming from?”

“I don’t know,” Han tells her. She strokes the line of his cheekbone with the pad of her thumb, slow.

“Maybe I do,” Leia says. “Maybe you’ve done some growing up and realized you actually want what you have, for a change.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth,” Han says.

“Don’t call me  _ woman,”  _ Leia replies, and Han huffs a laugh.

“Fair enough,” he says. She shifts again, shuffling in closer to him until their noses are just brushing and both of their heads are on Han’s pillow. Han closes the final gap between them, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. She smiles, and he can feel it. Heat blooms inside of him, spreads; he closes his eyes and just breathes. Not only, he realizes, does he never want to lose this, but he’d fight and sooner die than ever give it up. Before he would up the love of Leia or Ben, he would die.

“Your  _ face,”  _ Leia says, voice barely above a whisper. “You look so serious.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says. “Sorry about that.”

Leia kisses him this time, pushing in close. She doesn’t even part her lips, but the hard kiss makes Han’s heart race all the more, and he’s feeling flushed when she separates from him.

“Would that we could spend all our time on Yavin 4, doing anything we want, preparing for a war that will never come,” Leia says. She sighs, exasperated, almost as theatrical as her brother. When she looks up to Han and they make eye contact again, she adds, “At least we’ve got it for now. Right?”

“Right,” he agrees. His voice is just slightly too loud, right above a whisper and deep enough to rumble and make Ben shift. He shifts, stretching out, nearly rolling off of Han’s back. Leia catches him and steadies him easily, one hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, kiddo,” Leia says, so warmly that heat blossoms inside Han all over again. “Sleep well?”

“Dad was snoring,” Ben tells her, disgruntled and still rough with sleep, and Leia laughs.

“He was, wasn’t he?” Leia says. “He’s noisy.”

_ “Yes,”  _ Ben agrees.

“You’re one to talk,” Han says, reaching back to tug Ben in between them so he can roll onto his back. Ben props his chin up on Han’s chest and grins at him, dark hair a tangled mess. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Ben echoes, grinning. He buries his face in Han’s chest and wraps his arms around him, clinging tight. “Morning.”

Han brings his hand up to stroke Ben’s tangled hair back. He glances from their son to Leia and finds her watching Ben’s face, too. Her eyes flit up to his and lock on.

“Good morning,” Han says. Leia kisses Han’s cheek, then settles her head on his shoulder. In Han’s memory, in his mind’s eye, he remembers the first time he saw Leia all over again. He remembers seeing her face and feeling instantly found, so deeply seen, and he’d been just— terrified. So, so terrified. He can’t take back the years it took him to come to his senses, or her to hers, but he can enjoy the ones he’s got left.

“We should probably quit lazing around,” Leia points out. “Get a move on.”

“Ah, what for?” Han asks. “Let’s just enjoy this for a little while longer.”

“But don’t you want to go eat?” Ben asks. “Maybe Uncle Luke will bring Grogu’s dad.”

“Yeah?” Leia asks. “You hope so?”

“Oh, yeah,” Ben says, “He makes Uncle Luke happy. I hope they get married. Think they will?”

“I don’t know,” Leia comments.

“Think  _ you  _ will?” Ben asks. Leia looks to Han, one eyebrow raised, waiting for him to answer. His heart’s already racing; he can see it, himself, thrumming visibly through his thin shirt, when he looks next to Ben’s little face. After a moment, he turns back to Leia, grinning at her.

“Now, there’s an idea, princess, isn’t it?” Han suggests. Leia props herself up on one elbow and grips Han’s face, his chin in the cradle of her hand, thumb digging into his cheek, near to his teeth.

“You’re a troublemaker,” she accuses him.

Before he can defend himself, she ducks in and kisses him. Ben groans and pushes at their faces to separate them, but Leia just laughs into their kiss and pushes back at him until he starts to laugh with her. Han makes sure neither of them falls and just holds on.

**Author's Note:**

> Looking forward to returning to Luke and Din (and the Darksaber, and the Force, and lightsaber training, and also kissing) in part 4! 👀👀👀
> 
> You can (and should!) comment to chat with me, or talk with me about this fic on Twitter at [@nicole__mello](https://twitter.com/nicole__mello) and/or on Tumblr at [andillwriteyouatragedy](http://andillwriteyouatragedy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
